“You gonna say something?” I asked.
This was a position that neither of us had been in before. We’d spent the last decade or so counting on each other, but never before had I asked my little brother for his blessing.
Con lifted his beer and swigged. “Fuck, that’s good.”
I did the same.
After I set my mug back on the table, I shifted my jaw from side to side.
“Shouldn’t have dropped your hands,” Con commented, with a lifted eyebrow.
“True. But you’re a tricky fucker, and you would’ve found a way to get a shot in.”
He shrugged. “So, tell me how the hell you got hung up on Elle. She’s not the kind of woman you can pin down for long.”
And don’t I know it. She was constant movement—never still. If she wasn’t selling something to a customer, she was rearranging the displays, or trying to get me to spring for a website with an online store to increase our reach. Whatever it was, she threw her entire self into it. And that went the same for every damn time I’d kissed her.
One thing was for sure: I’d never be bored with Elle. If I ever figured her out, she’d change five minutes later, and I’d be back to square one.
I glanced up from my beer to find Con staring, and realized I’d answered his question with silence.
“She works for me. Does a damn good job.”
“And?”
“And I’m ready to give having something real a shot.” I lifted my mug and gestured at him. “You can’t argue with that. Not with how fucking happy you’ve been.”
Con’s expression didn’t change. Always studying. Working the angles. Finally, he took another swig of his beer. “You’re both adults. Fuck, it’s not like you need my permission.”
“Not looking for permission. I just want to make sure I’m not going to fuck up the good stuff you’ve got going on by pissing off Vanessa.”
At her name, a smile crossed his face. Fuck, it was good to see him happy.
I want that. It wasn’t something I’d ever really thought about before, but now it was on my mind, and I really fucking wanted that.
“Vanessa has known Elle nearly all her life. I’ve only been around her for a few months, but even I know she’s unpredictable. You think she’s going to do one thing, and she does something totally different. She’s not your typical trust fund kid. She’s … I’m not really sure what kind of demons she’s running from, but she seems to cover it up well by employing her own special brand of shock and awe.”
He was right. Elle wasn’t a typical rich girl, as much as she seemed to come off that way. But it was the last part of his comment that caught my attention.
“Shock and awe?”
“She says and does things that shock people, surprise them. Maybe she’s just random, but I think there’s more to it.”
“You a psychologist now?”
“Not even close. But if you want my blessing, you don’t even have to ask for it. Van isn’t going to hold anything against you, and neither am I. If anyone knows about taking a shot at being happy, it’s us.”
It was as simple as that with Con. I nodded. He nodded. And the conversation moved on to something else. Something I didn’t really want to talk about right now.
“How’s business?”
My beer sloshed in my stomach. Con had bought Chains, brought me on to manage it, and I’d cleaned the place up and gotten it to the point where it turned a healthy profit. Within only a few months of me owning it, that healthy profit had evaporated. Between Bree—who I couldn’t even be pissed at because of what had happened to her—and my grand idea to expand into vintage cars, shit was not where it’d been when Con had owned the place.
“Business is good.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t tell me if it wasn’t.”
It wasn’t a question. “I got it covered.”
“You ever need to back off on a payment, all you have to do is say so.”
Con had tried to give me Chains outright, but my pride wouldn’t let me take it for free. “I’m good.”
“Anything changes, you let me know.”
“Sure.”
We both knew I wouldn’t.
We finished our beers and shot the shit, talking about the boys, boxing, and the upcoming tourney until my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and looked down.
Elle.
You busy?
I immediately texted her back.
No. What’s up?
Elle’s response came within moments.
Need a ride. Can you come get me? Like … now?
I glanced back at Con. “Gotta run.”
He paused, beer almost to his mouth. “That her?”
“I’ll see you around,” I replied.
I stood, pulled out my wallet, and dropped a few bills on the table. “On me.”
I headed for the door, texting as I went.
On my way. Tell me where I’m going.
I didn’t know how long it would take Lord to get to my mother’s house, so I decided to seek refuge in the kitchen with Margaux, my mother’s cook and housekeeper.
She hummed as she washed a big roasting pan in the sink.
I pulled out a stool at the center island and made myself at home.
Margaux glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled. “Elle, child, don’t you look beautiful.”
I dropped my eyes to survey the dress I was wearing. Another summery number. This one had come from Dirty Dog—a royal blue A-line with white flowers and boat neck. Yve had picked it up on eBay, and I’d nabbed it before she could even get it steamed and hung up on the shop floor. She knew better than to buy cute stuff in my size and expect that she’d get to sell it. And the best part? It had pockets.